Enthralled (Dark Passions) (7 page)

  
I peered at him curiously and said, “You have my full attention.”

  
He nodded, and his expression became grim. “I felt devastated when you took off
this afternoon. And crushed by the distance between us when you reappeared at
the hotel.” He gave me a hard look and added, “I’ll admit it. I was trying to
make you jealous.”

  
I felt another surge of anger pulse through me. “So that’s how you deal with
the first sign of trouble? Turn your attention elsewhere? Try and alienate me
even further?”

  
Bradley reached for me, but I pulled away. “I wasn’t trying to alienate you. I
was trying to draw you closer.”

  
I let out another harsh laugh. “By flirting with another woman?”

  
His expression became sheepish and vulnerable. “By making you jealous. I needed
to see if you’d lose it over me.”

  
I looked at him in disbelief. “I’ve already told you how I feel about you,” I
said.

  
“You told me with your words,” he said. “Actions speak louder.”

  
I couldn’t help it. I was still fuming, and I wanted to wound him as badly as
he’d just wounded me. Actions speak louder, he said. Well, he was right. And I
was going to find out by his actions exactly how he felt about me.

  
“Let’s forget this for now, okay?” I said, making my face as expressionless as
I could. “You’re right. We should enjoy the night. Let’s go join Andy Warhol
and his crew at Studio 54.”

***

  
“Look who’s arrived!” Andy Warhol said as we made our way over to him. He was
sitting on a ridiculously long pink leather couch with blue throw pillows,
surrounded by his superstars. Dressed magnificently in a smart black suit,
white dress shirt and red bow tie, he took slow sips from his martini glass as
he surveyed me closely. “That dress is beyond cute,” he said, eyeing me
appreciatively. “The girl has exquisite taste.” Then he gave Bradley a quick
nod of approval, and said, “And as usual, Bradley, you’re all class.”

  
Bradley gave him an easy, wide smile, and said, “Thanks, Andy. You look fabulous
yourself.” A stunning blonde in a gold satin dress with an ostrich-feather boa
around her neck gestured to a stretch of empty space on the sofa beside her.
“Both of you. Please sit down. There’s plenty of room,” she said, her tone
gracious, and her big brown eyes warm and inviting. Bradley took my hand, and
pulled me over to the couch.

  
“Actually,” I said, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “I’m going to go get
myself a drink.”

  
Bradley gave me a strange look. “The waitress will be around any minute,” he
said. “Why don’t we just settle in and get comfortable?”

  
I gave him a tight smile and said, “I’d actually like to wander a bit and take
the place in. I mean, it
is
Studio 54.”

  
There must have been a glimmer of something peculiar on my face, because he
eyed me carefully for a long moment. “Okay,” he finally said. “Meet me back
here soon, or I’ll come looking for you.”

  
“Great!” I said, a little too brightly. 

  
The place really was ‘out of sight,’ as the seventies kids would say. There was
a massive parquet wood dance floor with flashing silver disco balls hanging
from the ceiling above.  Purple neon lights in the shape of lightning bolts
flashed along one of the walls, and the balconies with black iron railings above
the dance floor were crowded with people dressed in glittery dresses and
metallic suits, watching the action below. At the far end of the dance floor
was a long bar with a wall of mirrors behind it, reflecting back all of the
glittery outfits and frenetic energy on the dance floor. I strutted over to the
bar and slid seductively onto an empty stool.

  
For a moment I watched the bartender, his arms flexing, his body twisting, as
he moved furiously fast, mixing everyone’s drinks. Finally he turned to me and
gave me a bright smile. “What can I get you?” he asked.

   “A
glass of champagne,” I said, smiling gratefully.

   “Put
that on my tab,” commanded a voice beside me. “I’d like to buy the lady a
drink.”

   I
turned to my left. A handsome man with broad shoulders and twinkling blue eyes
had slid into the seat beside me. Perfect, I thought. I carefully crossed my
legs and beamed at him. “Thanks,” I said.

   When
our eyes met, his lit up and he grinned at me. “Well aren’t you just the most
spectacular thing I’ve seen all night,” he said, his expressive eyes
unabashedly fluttering all over my face and body.

   “You’re
not too bad yourself,” I said, taking in his smart, expensive navy suit and his
powerfully built upper body.

   “You
come here with anyone?” he asked.

   I
shrugged noncommittally, and answered, “Maybe.”

   He
shook his head and grunted. “Well he’s a damn fool to leave a knockout like you
unsupervised.” Then he leaned closer and said, “If you were mine, I’d never
take my eyes off you for a minute. Let alone neglect you like this.”

   I
eyed him carefully, then gave him a slow smile. “I’m not being neglected. I’m
just exercising my freedom.”

   “Well,
alright,” he said, his eyes laughing, “Why don’t we finish our drinks, and then
I can watch you exercise some of that freedom with me on the dance floor.”

   I
grabbed my champagne, parted my lips around the rim suggestively, then threw
back my head and downed the whole glass. He laughed heartily and said, “Now
that’s the way to do it. Girl after my own heart.” He drained his drink quickly
and then grabbed my hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s show these folks how to do
it right.”

   He
pulled me to my feet, then draped his arm tightly around my waist. “We fit
perfect,” he said, sliding his hand down to my hip. When we hit the dance
floor, the DJ was playing “I Will Survive,” by Gloria Gaynor. I pulled away
from him, and furtively scanned the club for Bradley. He was standing on the
edge of the dance floor, his arms crossed, his eyes heated and piercing, his
expression furious. Good. I shot him a sultry smile, and then turned back
toward the guy from the bar. I started shaking my ass and grinding my hips with
wild abandon. Bar boy grinned at my lasciviously, grabbed me by the waist, then
let his hands slide lower. Suddenly, a hand shot out at his chest and pushed
him backwards. Then I felt a whoosh of wind as I was lifted off my feet. In an
instant, I realized I was in Bradley’s arms. His eyes were burning with anger
and desire. He looked so hot in that instant that I literally started to pant.
Bar guy stepped forward and said, “The lady and I were having a moment. How
‘bout you return her to her feet and let us finish what we started.”

   Bradley
chuckled darkly. “The lady is with me. So keep your hands off,” then with a sly
smile in his voice he added, “Look all you want. But only
I
get to
touch.”

   The
bar guy leered at us both and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t take my eyes off her.
I’ll watch her like a hawk until the next time you leave her unattended.”

   Bradley
laughed in private amusement, then hoisted me over his shoulder. He carried me
over to a little alcove with a full view of the dance floor, then put me down
and pressed me up against the wall. “What the
hell
was that?” he asked,
glowering at me, close enough that I felt his hot, heavy breath on my face.

   I
smiled at him wickedly. “Getting even,” I said, my voice triumphantly steady.
“Did you enjoy them show?” I added, my tone full of provocation.

   Bradley’s
eyes flashed, then burned into me. “Show?” he asked, his voice ferocious and
husky. “The show hasn’t even started yet. But it’s about to,” he said, slipping
his hands down to my ass, and then hoisting me up against the wall. With one
thrust of his hips, he spread my legs. I wrapped them around him and pulled him
tighter to me, eyeing him seductively. His eyes crinkled slightly at the
corners, even as they continued to pierce into me. “You want this as badly as I
do. Right here. Right now,” he said. Then he lunged for my throat, practically
devouring my flesh with him lips. I moaned from deep in my throat, and a
delicious, violent shiver wracked my whole frame. Bradley growled, and pushed
his groin against mine. “Feel how hard I am for you?” he asked. “I’m so fucking
turned on I can’t even stand it,” he hissed, then reached up the skirt of my
dress, and with one swift, violent tug, tore my panties to shreds.

   “You
promised you were going to stop doing that,” I said, sliding my hands along the
seam of his crotch, then cupping his balls through the material.

   “I
didn’t promise anything of the kind. You asked me to go easy on your panties. I
took it under advisement. Now I’ve made my decision. You’ve acted wickedly, and
need a swift, hard punishment.” His eyes still searing into mine, he lifted one
of his hands off my bare buttock and gave it a hard slap.

   My
flesh stung, burned, tingled deliciously, and I let out another moan, and a
little spasm of desire trembled through my sex. I was aroused, aching, and so
needy. Cupping my buttocks with one arm, he slid his free hand under my dress,
parted the folds of my sex and started rubbing my clit in delicious little
circles. I heard my breathing speed up as the ripples of pleasure spread
through my body. “Look,” Bradley commanded. “On the dance floor. Your little
friend is watching.”

   I
turned my head, and scanned the dance floor. Sure enough, bar guy was standing
on the sidelines, his gaze riveted to my face. His twinkling eyes were now dark
with desire. “He’s going to stand there and watch while I fuck you senseless,”
Bradley rasped into my ear.

   I
felt a strange, horrifying thrill race through my body. “I can’t,” I said,
squirming in his arms.

   “Stop
squirming,” he ordered, pressing me harder against the wall to still me. “You
can, and you will. You’re a little exhibitionist Mel. You’ll come harder and
stronger than ever knowing you have an audience.”

   “But–”

   “Shh,”
he said, stroking my clit, then inserting his finger inside me. “You’re so
wet,” he said. “Always so wet for me.” Lost in my cloud of desire, I distantly
heard the sound of Bradley’s zipper coming down, and then his cock was pressed
up against my entrance. For a moment our eyes locked, his boring into me. My
sex clenched greedily in anticipation of his hard, swollen cock.

   “Now,”
I rasped. “Fuck me now.” Bradley gave me a devilish smile, and then plunged
into me, hard.When he hit my wall, he stilled himself, and stared in rapture at
my face as my whole body quivered from the pleasurable ache of him filling me.

   “That
face,” he whispered. “That look of you lost in pleasure. That’s mine,” he said,
his eyes going dark. “
He
can watch it,” he said, jerking his head toward
bar boy on the edge of the dance floor. “But it’s my touch that transforms you.
That look of utter, delicious surrender. That’s mine, Melanie.”

   “Yes,
Bradley,” I said, my voice hoarse. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

   I
felt a hard tremor run through his back, and then he groaned. “All mine,” he
whispered, then started thrusting deliciously, violently into me, building my
arousal to a fever pitch. As he invaded my depths, fully possessing me, his
strong fingers digging into the flesh of my ass, his mouth pressed against my
throat, my utter surrender became a visceral thrill; with each thrust of his
cock, he claimed me, and the throbbing, pulsing knot of ecstasy at my center
tightened and tightened, the pressure building and building, until finally it
burst into a million bright sparks of euphoria. And he was right there with me.
I watched his face quiver, and his whole body throb as he let go inside me. He
thrust and groaned and trembled, his fingers clawing at my ass, his breath hard
on my face, until he let out a final whimper, and for a precious brief moment
his face became utterly unguarded, his expression soft, even loving.    

   We
stayed still for a moment, listening to each other’s breathing slow, and then
he pulled out of me, and gently slid me back to the floor. He quickly tugged
down the skirt of my dress, and then zipped up his pants. I looked over at the
dance floor. Bar guy was still standing there. He made a clapping motion with
his hands, then shrugged his shoulders and turned toward the bar.